


Striving for Perfection

by cheshireArcher



Category: Henry IV Part 1 - Shakespeare
Genre: Dog training, Dogs, Gen, the Other Lady Percy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 04:14:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10235639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheshireArcher/pseuds/cheshireArcher
Summary: Hotspur always strives for perfection. So does Lady, even if their ideas of perfection are different.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written from a prompt from my tumblr friend Maluiowithin, which another friend of mine, Exlibrisfangirl, asked me to write.
> 
> Please note that I don't know anything about dog training.
> 
> I have two cats.
> 
> That should speak for itself.

Lady was a good girl, and by dog standards decently intelligent. She also often brought Hotspur things- sometimes something he’d thrown for her to fetch, other times random items she wanted him to have. This had given him an idea- maybe he could train her to fetch something for him.

“Alright, Lady, smell this?” Hotspur asked, kneeling down with one of his shirts. She sniffed it, then licked his hand. “No, not my hand,” he said, petting her anyway. “Now, go find something else that smells like this!” 

Lady took off like she had scented game, and Hotspur followed her. Lying on the floor down the hallway was his coat, which she found and sat next to, waiting for further instruction. “Good girl!” Hotspur praised, petting her and rewarding her with a treat. This might be easier than he thought.

Lady had a success rate of bringing the right thing to him about six times out of ten, which was decent, but Hotspur always strove for perfection. She had learned to bring his coat, and sometimes she even brought him a boot- just one, but she did her best. Sometimes she got distracted and ran around rather than getting whatever she’d been told to get. Other times she’d get what Hotspur wanted but wanted to play, which resulted in him running after her shouting that he had to get dressed, give me back my boot, on more than one occasion. 

And sometimes she got confused- or whatever she brought was confusing. She had found a sock of unknown origin to Kate one day, and another time Hotspur called for his coat, she brought him Kate’s. 

“Lady, this isn’t my coat,” Hotspur said, putting the coat in front of her muzzle for her to sniff. “This is Kate’s.” Lady looked up at him like he’d said the stupidest thing ever, but she thumped her tail on the floor anyway. Hotspur looked at the coat, then at Lady, then back at the coat again. No, that couldn’t be it. He stooped down to talk to her on her level. “You thought this was my coat because it smells like me, didn’t you,” he asked. Lady licked his face. “Oh, you good girl,” he laughed, scratching behind her ears. She may not always fetch the right thing, but as far as Hotspur was concerned, Lady was perfect.

To this day, however, he does not know where that sock came from.


End file.
